Zombies in Love Read Online Free PDF

Prof. Leschke gets to yell at me instead.  Of course, he wasn't looking forward to the end of office hours, either, because he'd have to go check on the zombie. 
                  Raising the dead wasn't nearly as much fun as you'd think.
                  He heard a squeak as someone sat down in the chair opposite him.  "Prof. Comanor?" she said.
                  "Just call me Ian," he said, smoothly flipping his notebook shut so she couldn't read his brainstorming notes on how to exterminate zombies.  (1. Fire?  2. Acid?)  And then his heart stopped for a moment.  The student was absolutely gorgeous.  She had long blond hair, and lovely patrician features, and she was wearing the tightest white tanktop he'd ever seen in his entire life.  Even though it was early May, he found himself thinking it was a little cold for a tank top, especially one that thin.
                  Most of the graduate student lifestyle was okay with Ian-- he had no trouble with poverty and obedience-- but the chastity part was really getting to him.  He tried desperately to remember all the things that they'd taught him in orientation about not fraternizing with undergraduates, especially not ones you were teaching, or might teach.  They'd even showed him videos about it.  You're going to lose your scholarship!  Or get shipped back home to Mom!  Won't she be thrilled!
                  "I'm Sloane, Sloane Pannapacker," she said, smiling at him, and leaning forward a little, so he got a peek down her shirt.  Scholarship!  Mom!  "Remember me from section?"
                  "Um, no," said Ian.  Why didn't he remember this woman?  Surely he would remember if he'd seen her before.  He had to look up from his lecture notes more often.
                  She tossed her hair, triggering a ripple of motion through her torso that made poor Ian's brain seize up again.  "I have a little problem," she said.
                  "I'm here to help," said Ian, trying to sound suave.
                  "I have a family wedding I need to go to, and my dad bought the tickets, and I'm going to miss the midterm.  Is there any way I can take a makeup exam?"
                  "Sure," said Ian.  "We do that.  I mean, if it's an emergency.  Sure.  No problem."  Okay, they'd never done it before, but it wasn't a problem.  He'd write the exam himself if he had to.  No problem.  Nope.
                  "You're so sweet," she said, standing up.  She reached over and rested her hand on his.  "Maybe you'll give it to me personally?  Just email me and tell me when?"
                  Ian swallowed and watched her sashay out the door.  She seems nice , he thought.  Glad I could help her out.
     
    #
     
    When he came home from the Palmetto, Sam Lazarus followed his wife Lacey up to their bedroom.  She had her shopping bags at the foot of their bed, like she always did.  This is how it would work: Sam would sit in the antique wingback chair, drinking the water with fresh lemon she’d set out for him, and admire the day’s purchases. 
    Item one: a pillow with some kind of floral pattern.  “Won’t this look pretty in the sunroom?  On the love seat?”
    “It sure will,” he said, trying to sound excited.  He’d learned that lack of enthusiasm made Lacey cry.  Then she’d call herself a bad wife, promise to return everything, and lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the evening.
    It wasn’t worth it.
    Item two: a scarf with big blotchy roses.  Not Lacey’s style as far as he knew, so he watched her, trying to suss out an appropriate reaction.
    “Aunt Julia’s birthday is next week.”
    He nodded.  This one was necessary, at least.  “She’ll love it.  Nice work.”
    Lacey carefully refolded the scarf, not looking at him.  “Have they said anything yet?”
    “Not yet,” he said.  They hadn’t made a